


Space Cadet

by Fog_22



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fog_22/pseuds/Fog_22
Summary: I wrote this for a Mass Effect writing challenge on Ars Technica. It features the Shepard I made for my second playthrough of the trilogy. I didn't win anything of course, but it was fun. Let me know what y'all think.It always interested me in Mass Effect 2 to imagine that Shepard didn't actually remember anything, and was just making it up as they went along.





	Space Cadet

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a Mass Effect writing challenge on Ars Technica. It features the Shepard I made for my second playthrough of the trilogy. I didn't win anything of course, but it was fun. Let me know what y'all think.
> 
> It always interested me in Mass Effect 2 to imagine that Shepard didn't actually remember anything, and was just making it up as they went along.

“Commander, Mr. Vakarian is at the door. He says he has a surprise,” EDI’s smooth voice chimed in Shepard’s cabin.

“Thank you, EDI. Let him in,” Stanislaw Shepard replied, putting away his tools and armor.

“Hey, Shepard!” Garrus exclaimed as he came in.

“Hey, Garrus!” Shepard greeted. “Are you feeling comfortable in the new Normandy?”

“I think so, yes,” Garrus assured him. “There’s a lot of work to do.”

Shepard nodded, though he knew that sentence held most of its meaning by what it left out.

Garrus coughed. “I, uh, wanted to give you something. Of course you might have already gotten your own copy by now, but I know how much it means to you, so...”

He presented a small rectangular object, wrapped in traditional turian shawl.

Shepard couldn’t for the life of him guess what it was, so he took the object with a big, gracious smile and opened it carefully.

It was a book. A paper book. _Space Cadet_ , the cover declared, by Robert Heinlein.

“Thank you, Garrus,” Shepard said evenly, “but I don’t understand.”

Garrus’s jaw hung slightly.

“Don’t you remember? You said you’d had a copy of this book since you were five, that it’s what made you want to join the Alliance.”

Was it true? Had he forgotten?

“Garrus, I—have to be honest,” Shepard said haltingly. “My memory hasn’t been right since I was revived. I don’t remember a lot, and what I do remember feels like watching a vid or a game. Like it’s not real, or happened to somebody else.”

Garrus whistled in disbelief.

“But you do remember it, right? Feros, Noveria, hunting Saren, all that, right?” Garrus asked urgently.

Shepard nodded solemnly. “Of course. I remember the big stuff. But I don’t remember when I first met you.”

“Ha, that’s not too important,” Garrus assured Shepard. “Do you remember your own life?” he asked.

“I think so,” Shepard said. “I remember Earth...” he began, Garrus nodding in interest. “Growing up on the streets of Kraków. I lived in an orphanage in an old synagogue, but then I joined a gang—.”

“The Reds,” Garrus offered.

“Oh, that’s right,” Shepard replied. “And then I joined the Alliance, uh...”

“And then Torfan,” Garrus said.

Shepard gulped. “Right, Torfan. I’m actually glad I see that one from the outside now. I understand why people called me a monster.”

“You’re not a monster!” Garrus insisted. “You did what you had to.”

“Maybe,” Shepard whispered. “But Garrus.”

“Yes?”  
“Will you help me with this? My memory? I can’t tell anyone else. Miranda would be devastated if she thought her work on me was imperfect, and I can’t do that to her. The rest of the crew can’t know either.”

“Hell, of course, Shepard. But you know, you’re not defined by your memory. You just have to do the right thing here and now.”

Shepard smiled weakly. “Thanks, but I hope I know the right thing to do.”

“You always did, Shepard. That won’t change now.”


End file.
